No Crying in Baseball
by Mozart's Starling
Summary: It's 1943, and with the boys off at war, it's up to the women to keep the American Pastime of Baseball running, with a little help from Disney's All American Girl's Baseball League. (Elsanna, Incest with Adopted!Anna. Will feature characters from other Disney movies. Based off A League of Their Own, copyright Columbia Pictures 1992. May contain triggers.)
1. Why You Gotta Be So Good?

**A/N: Hey guys- so, here's a new Elsanna fic that's been hanging around my computer for a while. It's based off the movie _A League of Their Own, _but I refuse to make this a cross-over since most people won't read them. Anyway, if you haven't seen the movie, it's on Netflix... so go watch it. Totally worth it. All recognizable characters belong to Walt Disney, and major plot points or quotes recognizable from _ALOTO _are copyright Columbia Pictures, 1992. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes, and no profit will be made from it.**

**Oh, and for fans of _"_This Life I've Lived," don't worry, it hasn't been abandoned. I'm just not liking where my writing is taking me and need to take a break from pirates for a little while.**

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"Hey!" Green eyes stared defiantly into blue ones as the bat was handed off. "Lay off the fast ones."

"I like the fast ones!"

Elsa Davis tried to hide a smirk as her little sister, Anna, scowled at her. Her freckled face was coated in dust and sweat, twin red pigtails with the one blonde streak down the right side starting to break free of their bindings. The two girls, aged twenty-one and eighteen, were currently playing on their local softball team and about to lose to the next town over. They needed a hit, and with one strike against them, Anna was under heavy pressure to perform. Unfortunately, Anna had a bit of a fiery stubborn streak- and the pitcher knew it.

The elder sister watched as her kin sauntered up to the plate, mouth set in a determined line. Anna stumbled just a little, causing her sister (and a good portion of the crowd), to sigh softly. Elsa sighed, picking up a bat to practice her swing.

"Strike One!"

_Lay off the fast ones._

"Strike two!"

Elsa glared at the girl now, growling at her stubbornness. She wasn't paying attention- she'd be liable to throw the game if she kept swinging at those. Anna readied the bat as the pitcher wound up… and there was the pitch. _Too high, too fast, Anna don't you dare-_ the redhead swung, missed. Groaned in frustration as the umpire called her out.

_"_And next up to the plate, Elsa Davis!" A small cheer erupted from the stands, but Elsa ignored them. She pulled her long blonde braid to fall against her back rather than her shoulder- it tended to block her vision from its usual position- and kept her eyes on Anna. The girl looked furious, face pulled into an angry grimace and fists clenched at her side. A good sister would smile at her, tell her it was okay, she'd do better next time. But Elsa wasn't exactly a good sister. So instead, she kept a straight face, and as her sister passed, muttered, "Told you to lay off the fast ones."

Anna stiffened a little beside Elsa. "Shut _up_." The reply was more of a snarl, and Elsa knew she'd hurt her sister. Again.

Guilt and fear welled up inside the blonde as she took her stance at home plate. The pitcher, a large girl with a terminally irritated face, sneered at her. It was common knowledge that Elsa was the best player in the league, and she had a bit of a rivalry with this particular girl. The batter could practically feel the excitement radiating from the crowd. These people were counting on her- why couldn't she be excited as well? Her mind drifted back to Anna. _For her then. Win it for her. As a sister_.

The pitch came- a slider by the looks of it. Elsa held the bat steady. "Ball!" Another cheer from the crowd. _Come on, give me something to hit._ Her eyes narrowed, and she tightened her grip. The next pitch came, right down the middle- almost on instinct, Elsa swung the bat as hard as she could. _Crack_! Her feet had a mind of their own as she shot toward first, vaguely aware that the announcer had said she'd hit far into left field, near the rows of corn that lined the park. There was no way they could get her out, and even if they did, she knew her basemen would round third long before she would. Nevertheless, she ran as fast as she could, long legs pumping like machines. The crowd cheered loudly as she rounded third, in the home stretch. _Come on , come on, you can beat it Elsa_. She caught glimpse of Anna on the bench, glowering at her dejectedly. Her pace staggered a bit and her face fell as the ginger stood up, stomping off toward the dirt road that would bring them home. A ball whizzed past her ear- she was tagged before she touched the bag, but it didn't matter, not to the spectators and not to her. For them, they'd won the game. For her… she'd hurt Anna. Yet again. She wasn't really sure how this time, but it was clear on her sister's face.

A few people stopped to congratulate her, but she waved them off, frowning as Anna's retreating back grew further away. "Thanks, yeah good game," she muttered to the coach and her teammates. Her hands ran self consciously over her braid, bringing it back to the front. Elsa hated to be the center of attention- it wasn't her fault she was good at ball. One of the other girls tossed her a worn out brown leather glove- Anna's. Ever the forgetful, feisty little girl. With a sigh, Elsa said her last goodbyes and thank yous to the team and her admirers, then shot down the road at a steady jog. It wasn't until she was halfway home that she caught up to a still angry Anna.

"Forgot your glove," she said, hoping to coax the girl into talking to her. Anna growled a little under her breath and snatched the item away. "I did tell you to lay off the fast ones." _No, no you idiot, wrong thing to say!_ "B-but you played a good game anyway! Really. And yesterday you were swell- I mean today was probably just because you were sore. Next time you'll-"

"Why you gotta be so perfect?" Anna spat suddenly. Elsa stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. "God, you should hear them- 'Why don't you get Elsa to teach you how to hit?' 'Why can't you be pretty, like your sister?'"

"Who said that?" The question came out more like a hiss, and Anna quirked an eyebrow at the blonde. Elsa blushed a little, backtracking. "You're pretty too."

"Yeah, well," the ginger sighed, slowing her pace as they approached the house. Her green eyes looked into Elsa's betraying a flash of hurt. "Y'know, even Ma and Pa think you're better. Ever here them introduce us? 'This is our daughter, Elsa.'" Anna's hand flew out exaggeratedly, nearly smacking her sister in the chest. She ignored the indignant noise coming from the blonde's throat. "'And this is our other daughter, Elsa's sister.' Shoulda had you and then bought a dog, not adopted the neighbor kid. I'm just the spare."

"Hey now, cut that out," Elsa warned, her heart aching at her sister's pain. Anna never mentioned the fact that she was adopted, not unless she was really, truly upset. "What's gotten into you?"

"Oh just forget it, Els," Anna growled, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You wouldn't understand."

The two sisters walked in silence to the house, Anna brooding darkly and Elsa trying to find words to express to her sister how much she cared for her. Their mother was waiting on the porch for them to come home, her graying hair done up in a bun. "You girls have chores to do!" They waved at her in tandem, then continued on to the barn where the cows were housed.

"You sent your application to Oregon state yet?" The question startled Elsa into looking over at her sister again, but Anna had set up the milking stool and was partially hidden beneath their brown heifer, Lulu. The blonde slowly got her own stool and bucket, disappearing beneath the cream colored cow named Rosie.

"Yeah."

"Gunna go?"

"I haven't got in yet."

"If you get in."

"I guess."

"You _guess?_ Elsa you've been looking forward to this your whole life-"

"Yeah, well, with the war goin' on Mr. Gerry might need me in the store for another year."

Anna huffed a little. "So? If you want to go, you oughta get. Damn Mr. Gerry and his farm- it's the 1940s for Christ's sake-"

"Watch your language."

"I will not."

Silence fell again, and Elsa lost herself in the rhythm of milking. Truth be told, she didn't really want to leave this town. Arendelle was a great place, full of small town people who always made her feel welcome. She'd be perfectly happy staying in Illinois for the rest of her life, with its rolling hills and cold winters- if not for Anna. Just being around her younger sister drove her crazy- not that Elsa disliked the girl. No, on the contrary. She loved the girl, more than one should love her sister. More than one woman should love another, for that matter. It was a problem she'd faced since she was fifteen- logically, she knew that she was supposed to grow up and marry a good God-fearing man, pop out lots of babies, and then die peacefully in her bed once she'd hit a ripe old age. But for some reason, when all her friends started becoming obsessed with boys and dating, she couldn't seem to dredge up the feelings they had for _any_ male. It wasn't as if she didn't get attention from the boys- in fact, she probably got more attention than any other girl in her grade- but she just couldn't return their affections.

It wasn't until her sophomore year that she began to acknowledge the feelings she'd been having for other girls. A few of her friends, though she'd never admit it to them, some of the upperclassmen- she'd watch them all, wondering why she could feel the butterflies for them and not the boys. And then, during a football game with the neighboring town, she'd met _her._

The girl was from Joliet, and seemed to be just as interested in Elsa as Elsa was in her. They talked a while under the bleachers, exchanged telephone numbers, and subsequently met on weekends at the new ice cream place called the Dairy Queen that had just opened in the other girl's hometown. For once, Elsa thought she might be able to make it work, that she might be able to feel normal and happy- until her father had found out and given her a lashing like she hadn't had since she was a child. She'd been forced to break it off with the other girl, who did not take to the treatment kindly. Anna had tried to console her and ask what was wrong, but like a good god-fearing woman, Elsa refused to talk about it, even pushing her away. Things only became more tense when Elsa began having _those_ feelings for the girl who'd grown up with them (though in moments of weakness, she would try and justify the fact that she was attracted to the other girl with their lack of blood relation."

Elsa was lost in her thoughts, the rhythmic motion of milking the cow the only thing keeping her grounded in reality, when suddenly a loud and rather nasally voice startled her out of her reverie. "Hey! Cow girl!"

The blonde looked up at the man incredulously, her blue eyes widening as she took him in. He was taller than her by quite a bit, with a handlebar moustache that easily covered half of his face and spectacles so large they covered the other half. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself," Anna replied loudly, making Elsa bite back a chuckle. The man scowled for a moment before glancing at the cows. He gestured to Elsa's hands as they continued to milk Rosie.

"Doesn't that hurt them?"

"Hurts 'em if we don't do it," the elder sister replied automatically, shrugging. The small man's brow furrowed in concentration.

"It seems like it'd be painful. Hmm. I'm Duke Weselton, a baseball scout." Elsa quirked her eyebrow as she heard Anna's milking slow to a crawl. "Do you know Walt Disney? He makes those children's cartoons."

"Yeah, I know 'em. We go to the pictures to make fun of those prissy little princesses everyone fawns over."

"That's the one. He's starting a girl's baseball league." Anna's milking had completely stopped now, her stool scraping against the boards of the barn. "Trying to make some money while the boys are overseas. Want to play?"

"What?"

"Nice retort. It's a real league, pays $75 dollars a week."

Anna's excited voice filled Elsa's ears, making her heart leap. "A professional league? Just like… like DiMaggio or-or the Babe? And $75 dollars a week? Elsa that's more than double what you make over on Gerry's farm!"

"Yeah," Elsa scoffed. "And a load of malarkey at that. Pull her leg for a while, why don't ya, mine are too sore from running." The blonde brushed past Mr. Weselton, leaving him spluttering after her.

"You can't- your country needs you!"

"To play a game while the boys are off at war?" she snorted a little, shaking her head. "Right. Look Mister, I appreciate the offer but I'm waiting on a college acceptance letter. I ain't got time for running around the country playin' ball."

"Well, I'll go!"

Weselton and Elsa turned to look at Anna. Her face was lit up like the fourth of July, eyes wide with anticipation. Her sister had to resist the urge to smack the man next to her when he snapped, his tone offending. "I don't want _you_ I want her! The one who _hit_ the ball." The redhead's face fell, her eyes misting over at the rejection, and Elsa crossed her arms.

"Hey! She's a great ball player- she's a pitcher, and she just… pitched yesterday that's all. You haven't seen what she can do. Let me just get my glove so she can show you-"

"Listen, lady, I know the goods when I see them… and you're the goods."

"Well I can't help you. I'm sorry. Come on, Anna, this buffoon isn't worth our time."

"W-wait!" Anna grabbed Weselton's shirtsleeve. "Please, just let me show you my pitch-"

"I already told you- hey…" Elsa watched, her eyes trained on Weselton's hand as he squeezed her sister's arm, frowning in concentration. She wanted so badly to smack the offending appendage, how dare he touch her like that-

"Tell you what. You can come along, _if_ you get your sister to come too. Train leaves at nine tomorrow- don't miss it." With that, the little man trotted off, slamming the door of his blue Cadillac before speeding off. Elsa watched him go with a hint of satisfaction, before turning her eyes toward her sister.

Bad idea. Anna's face was currently pulled into the most adorable pout Elsa had ever seen, her green eyes shining imploringly at the blonde. "Oh no. Absolutely not, Anna."

"But Elsa-"

"No! The discussion is over, now come on, we have chores-"

"What did I ever do to you?" Anna snapped, her cheeks reddening in anger. Elsa was momentarily taken aback by her sister's fit of temper. "Why can't you just do something for once? You have your whole life to go to college, or to stay here and work the fields- what are you so afraid of that you can't have this first?"

"If you're so offended," Elsa whispered, "then why don't you _leave_ Anna?"

The question seemed to surprise the girl, who relaxed a little. Her eyes were cast downward and her fingers automatically went up to fiddle with one of her pigtails. "Ever since I was little," she said quietly, "I've always felt like I was meant for something bigger. This town might be nice for you, Elsa, but I'm suffocating here and all my plans for escape just keep closing like barn doors, right in my face. I can't stay here. I can't. I _need_ to get out, Els."

Elsa was quiet for a long time. She wanted to hold the girl, tell her how much she loved her and how it was going to be alright. How no matter what, she'd always be there, and they'd get through it together. She wanted to take Anna into her arms and just keep her there until the end of time, shelter her from all the evil in the world. But she couldn't. Fear of rejection, of losing the only person she ever really loved, stayed her hands. Fear was what caused her to inhale slowly through her nose, close her eyes, and utter the one word that would change her life forever.

"_Okay."_

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**_Notes on Accuracy:_**

**1. The first AAGPBL was in fact started by Philip K. Wrigley (owner of the Chicago Cubs and Wrigley Field) and was started because of WWII. In _ALOTO, _the name "Wrigley" was changed to Harvey, and for this Fic, I will use Disney's name.**

**2. The first Dairy Queen was in fact founded in Joliet, though it debuted a little later than I say in this story.**

**3. The pay for players in the first AAGPBL ranged from $45-$85 a week. The figure given to Dottie Henson in _ALOTO _was $75.**

**4. The last name "Davis" is a tribute to Geena Davis, who played Dottie.**


	2. I'm A Comet!

**A/N: Before you read this chapter, just a quick note- I fixed a few things in Chapter 1. Mostly what you need to know is that the girls are now from Arendelle, Illinois- not Corona. Also, I decided to add a few trivia points at the end for your perusal.**

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The train ride to Disney Field in Chicago was long, boring, and uncomfortable- at least for Elsa. It wasn't even so much the train itself (after all she was used to small spaces, having grown up in the tiny farmhouse), but the people she was with. Weselton seemed to be a grade A slimeball, only interested in money and blunt to the point of rudeness. Several times she bore witness to his harassment of young women, each occurrence earning a deeper scowl than the last. To top it all off, for such a short man he seemed to have an incredibly explosive temper, that in the hour or so they were actually on the train, he'd had no less than three outbursts. Yes, she wouldn't be sorry to see the wretched talent scout go.

But she would take a thousand Weselton's over having to be in such close proximity to Anna, who seemed to have transformed overnight into a new woman. Rather than her usual irritable self, she was bubbly and happy, joking with the staff on the train, even trying to joke with Elsa ("Hey, want to see if we can get old Weasel-town to blow his fuse… again?"). It was just… odd for the blonde to see her sister like that, after so many years of all but ignoring each other. The feelings of more-than-sisterly love began to rear their ugly heads, and more than once Elsa found herself blushing furiously while shifting to try and relieve the warmth that was spreading through her body.

"Well, girl's we're here," Weselton announced, hopping up as the taxi they'd taken to the field screeched to a stop. "Welcome to the big city. Try not to get lost."

Anna was too stunned by the sight of the stadium to retort, though Elsa was too mesmerized by Anna to even notice the field until they were on it. Hundreds of young women were in their softball uniforms, warming up or practicing their positions. Each girl noticed that there were nearly thirty other catchers and pitchers, all of whom seemed to be at the top of their game. "Well, shit," The redhead whispered, earning an enthusiastic nod from the blonde.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to!" the scout announced, turning toward the exit. "And cowgirls, remember- the grass is not for eating." Both sisters rolled their eyes and giggled at the announcement, before walking out onto the field with slightly apprehensive looks on their faces.

Two women who were having an animated discussion about the mechanics of a bat seemed to notice the newcomers' hesitancy, smiling evilly at each other. "Hey!" said the first, as she flipped her long brownish-red hair out of her face. Her hip was cocked under her light purple _Muses_ uniform, and she seemed to be chewing on a thick wad of gum. "What're you looking at?"

"Yeah, what're you looking at?" The second woman chimed in. She looked nothing like her angular companion- a little plump, with blonde hair thrown up into a messy bun, her dark green uniform read _Pixies_. If it weren't for the accents, Elsa would have sworn they were from two different planets, let alone states.

"Nuthin," Anna muttered cooly, her eyes locked with the brunettes'. Rather than leave the two alone, she tried to make conversation. "All these girls gunna be in the league?"

"You wish." Elsa narrowed her eyes a bit at the tone of the brunette's voice. "There's only sixteen girls to a team, eight teams in all."

"That's a hundred and forty four girls," the other blonde snarled. "And there's over two hundred girls here. Which means some of yous is going home. So ah, sorry."

Anna's temper flared. "Whaddaya mean, some of us! Come and say that too my face!"

The green-clad woman grinned evilly and looked to her companion. "Show her, Meg!"

"Gladly." Meg, as she was called, promptly whipped a ball at Anna's head. The redhead ducked, narrowly missing being hit, while Elsa caught the ball on a reflex, her hand ungloved and her eyes burning holes into Meg's own. _How dare she try and hurt Anna that horrible, terrible, awf-_

"Okay, some of them are going home," the brunette said, admiration touching her smile as she stepped closer to the sisters. "Name's Megara Egan, but my friends call me Meg."

"Least they would if she had any friends," the blonde chimed in, giggling a little. "And I'm Belle Whitman, but everyone just calls me Tink."

"Why Tink?" Anna inquired, tilting her head a little. Meg rolled her eyes a little as Tink began to turn a very nice shade of red, clearly holding back some anger.

"She likes to Tinker with stuff. Old engines, radios, you name it. In fact, that's how we met. I was going to be late to my gig, my car broke down in Patchogue-"

"Meg dances and sings for a Gentleman's club in Montauk," Tink added, ignoring her friend's glare.

"Yes. Anyway, the car broke down and Tink here fixed it since she was working in her dad's shop just a quarter mile up the road. Been friends ever since."

"How sweet," Elsa said, her smile polite but not overly excited. "Anna and I have known each other for most of our lives."

"Mhm. Elsa's my sister. Name's Anna Davis, mighty pleased to meet ya'll."

Tink raised an incredulous eye. "Y'all? And just where're you from?"

"Illinois. Not too far from here actually, in a town called Arendelle."

Before the girls could comment to each other anymore, the coaches called attention to the center of the field. "Ladies!" the man boomed, his voice carrying over the field like a wave. "Welcome to the first ever tryouts for the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League! Today, you will be tested on your skill- only the best of the best may be allowed to compete in our league. Just know that every single one of you was that best of the best where she comes from… and know that that fact means nothing, until you can prove your worth to me on the field. Now, we're going to divide you up by position…"

Eventually, the girls were surrounded by their peers, sent to do warm-ups, then drills. Elsa was surprised to see that the girls were being made to throw overhand, rather than their more comfortable underhanded softball pitch. It was because of the smaller ball, she reasoned, and watched with satisfaction as Anna was able to transition perfectly to the new style- other girls were struggling with even throwing straight, nevermind well.

The other positions were not without their own competition. Being a catcher, Elsa could observe each and every one of these people, her mind categorizing the best and the worst. Meg, a second baseman, was deadly when it came to home runs, waiting for the opportune time to hit. Tink likewise was excellent at catching, making her ideal for first base. A young woman everyone called Rapunzel- likely making fun of her abnormally short-cropped hair (which several of the coached had asked be taken out of its "bun" and put into a ponytail before realizing their mistake)- could wail the ball so hard she broke two bats, one for each side of her switch hit. There were girls who could slide, who could catch, who could hit- Elsa was happy she wasn't in charge of the Roster, because she'd never be able to choose.

Finally, after hours of practicing, training, and generally just showing off, the teams were posted on a board at the far end of the field. Anna shot forward, squirming her way through the crowd, while Elsa hung back a little, apprehensive and excited at the same time. She simply waited for Anna to come over- or sprint over, as the case was. "I'm a Comet! A Kenosha Comet!"

Elsa laughed and blushed a little as the younger woman jumped into her arms, nearly knocking her over. "That's great, Anna! Didja happen to see where I was?"

"Oh, yeah! You're a Comet too!" There was a wry look on her face as she pulled away, patting her sister on the arm. "Guess they figured we was too good a team to split up, eh Els?"

"Yeah, guess they did." With a now bright red blush, the blonde turned to find the rest of their team, dragging her sister by the elbow once she'd found where the Comets were situated. It looked as though Meg and Tink had made the team as well, along with Rapunzel, a blonde named Cindy, redhead named Ariel, three brunettes named Wendy, Belle, and Jane, and a few others who Elsa didn't recognize.

The head coach for a team known as the Racine Belles quickly settled them all down, calling for attention. "Now girls, I know you're all excited, but before we get too far ahead of ourselves, Mr. Pix-"

"Sir." One of the batboys nudged the coach, and pointed to where a lone girl was standing by the rosters, shifting from foot to foot and looking a little nervous. The coach sighed, turning to face her.

"Miss! Miss, are you supposed to be here?" There was no response from the quivering girl, who flinched a little as she was addressed. "Look, is your name on a list? If your name isn't on a list, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave."

Elsa felt a movement by her left side, and instinctively shifted- Jane was pushing her way to the front of the group, jogging over to the woman who looked close to tears at this point. "Can you read, darling?" Her uppercrust accent surprised the Midwestern beauty, who'd seen this woman sliding into bases all day and practically leaping to catch flyballs. The other girl shook her head no. "Well alright. What is your name?"

"V-Violet Parr."

"Alright, let's have a look see, shall we?" Jane grinned gently at the woman, who smiled back hesitantly. "Parr… Parr." Her finger stopped a few inches down on the fourth paper, and she glanced at Violet. "This is you! Violet Parr! You're with us, the Kenosha Comets."

Kenosha let out a roar of approval, and Jane lead Violet over to the team, where she was clapped on the back heartily.

"Now, as I was saying," the main coach said with a smile. "I would like to introduce Mister Ira Pixar, who is the Chairman for the Disney All American Girl's Professional Baseball League." A spindly but kind looking man stepped forward, his eyeglasses nearly sliding off his face.

"Hello Ladies, and congratulations." Elsa immediately liked the man, smiling a little as he stumbled over his words. Whereas Walt Disney seemed magnanimous, his being too great to comprehend, Pixar was kindly, more relatable, and had a genuine quality about him. "You will be playing throughout the Summer, just like a real ball league. However, there are a few rules that must be followed. You will all attend regular classes at Miss Merryweather's Finishing School-"

"For what?" One girl blurted, earning a murmur of approval from the crowd. Pixar stumbled for a moment, looking startled before he continued.

"There will be no alcohol-"

"What?"

"No smoking-"

"Are you shitting me?"

"And most importantly, no men." Meg was halfway onto her feet before Tink pulled her down, muttering something to cool the brunette down. For her part, Elsa attempted to look as outraged as the other girls, glancing around subtly as a blush rose on her neck.

"Now… settle down…" Pixar stuttered, looking a little frightened at the mutinous mass of women before him. "I expect each and every player in this league to look and act like a lady. Moving on to the uniforms, Mr. Disney had these hand picked for you all. I for one find them quite fetching."

All eyes turned toward the place that Mr. Pixar was pointing, and immediately Elsa's jaw dropped. The uniform consisted of a standard hat, baseball socks, stylish cleats… and a dress. "A dress, that's _half _a dress!" Anna snapped, as other players were roaring in disapproval. "How'm I supposed to pitch in that thing?"

"You?" Elsa choked, cheeks reddening at the images that came unbidden into her mind. In an attempt to redirect the conversation, she whispered angrily, "I have to squat in that thing."

"LADIES!" Pixar shouted, silencing them. "Now, there are about sixty women outside with train tickets home who would play in a bathing suit if I asked them to." The girls all shifted, looking at each other uncertainly. "If you can't play in this, then you can't play with us."

There was a heavy silence in the air, stretching for several minutes. Finally, Meg stood up, crossing her arms. She sized up the model, then looked directly into Mr. Pixar's eyes. "Well," she drawled, flicking her hair to the side in a carefree gesture. "You'd better be ready to see some dirt in that skirt, Mister."

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_**Notes on Accuracy:**_

**1. Ira Lowenstein (Harvey's second in command in ****_ALOTO) _****is represented here by Ira Pixar.**

**2. Meg's last name (Egan) was chosen in honor of the actress who voiced Megara in ****_Hercules_****. "Whitman" is the last name of the voice actress who played Tinkerbell in the most recent ****_Disney Fairies_**** movies.**

**3. All Disney Heroines who appear in this fic were created after 1943- thus making their likenesses more plausible and less awkward. **

**4. I do have the full roster for the Kenosha Comets, including nicknames for all the characters. I may post them with character bios (like a baseball card) in a supplementary fic.**

**5. In ****_ALOTO, _****Dottie and Kit were on the Rockford Peaches' roster. I substituted Kenosha for Rockford because in the real 1943 Series, it was Racine and Kenosha who played- not Racine and Rockford.**


End file.
